Footsteps Through Time
by Almandine-Azaleea
Summary: The tale of Kirara. Chapter 11: Kirara is just too much sometimes.
1. Rebirth

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha nor do I make any profit from the publication of this story.

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Rebirth

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_Before her mistress's stone grave_

_She weeps alone, but cannot stay_

_She stands up and she walks away_

_Leaving footsteps through time._

_Alone, she stumbles through the world,_

_A mere broken-hearted girl;_

_The shadow of her former self_

_Leaves footsteps through time._

* * *

She follows her mistress deep into the heart of the cave, bearing the oppressive _shouki._

The _youkai_ attack, their sheer numbers were enough to strike fear in the heart of anyone.

They advance relentlessly through wave after wave of dark, slimy, writhing monsters intent on ripping them apart.

Her mistress fights tooth and nail, and together they slay countless demons; but, their powers are waning, and the monsters kept coming; the dark _youkai_ reaches out and wraps slimy claws around her mistress.

She is forced to watch on, knowing that she would be dead before she would be able to save her.

She tears at the other monsters attacking her, ripping through them, being sprayed with their dark blood, but she cannot overcome them, and she knows it.

She fighst harder, pushing herself, hoping against hope she might make it even as her common sense tells her she will not.

An odd sound reaches her ears and she turns her head to the source; everything happened in slow motion, in a gruesome scene that would haunt her dreams for centuries to come: her mistress pulled upon her spiritual powers, using them to glue the dark demon to her, sealing their battling souls in a small jewel and expunging it painfully from her body.

The jewel fell ominously to the floor, clinking and rolling away.

Silence spread painfully on the now frozen-in-time _youkai_.

A macabre sight: bleeding carcasses strewn here and there,_ shouki_ misting the air, a mountain of raging demons frozen dead mid-blow; and there, at the very top of the make-shift peak, with head lulling to one-side, hair spilling across her shoulder, seemingly in deep sleep, her beautiful mistress Midoriko.

She didn't know for how long she stared unseeingly at the grotesque view, all she knew was she was exhausted.

Every ounce of her body hurt, her wounds were raw and bleeding but most of all it was the ache in her heart that made it hard to move.

As a _youkai_ she had never been prone to great displays of emotion, and neither had her mistress, so her temperament suited them both.

Now, before the broken body of a most respected partner she cannot stop the tears that make their unfamiliar way down her face and plop pitifully on the ground.

Her already broken body is further battered by sobs that come from deep within recesses of her heart – places she had not even been aware existed in her.

When at last the tears cease, she is tired.

There is a gaping whole in her heart that bleeds despite her healing abilities, and she knows she cannot return to what she was. She cannot abhor her form any longer – it is a reminder of her failure and her loss.

She stands up slowly, with the weight of her decision still tugging at her, but she will not go back.

She feels the changes overtaking her, the disappearing soft weight of her tail, the ears shrinking and lowering on her head, the flattening of her snout into a pretty little pout and a slightly-upturned nose.

It is surreal; she has not used this form in centuries, and she feels almost as if it is her first time.

* * *

She must go.

* * *

Carefully she looks at the frozen youkai, taking in their fearsome snarls, then goes up to the closest one and rips part of his haori. 

It is not enough, so she moves on to the next one, and the next one, and the one after that.

She ties them up in a make-shift set of clothes, and bandages.

Her first steps as a human are awkward and clumsy, but she knows they will take her where she is meant to go.

She kneels and looks for the pearl with her mistress's soul. There! Her fingers take in the smooth. surface, feeling the thrumming just below.

She closes her palm around it and tucks it safely into her _obi._

With one last look to Midoriko's sleeping form she begins walking away from the cave and into the cold sunlight that whips her newly exposed skin.

_Sayoonara!_


	2. The Flow Of Time

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. I do, however, own the poem that appeared at the beginning of the previous chapter!**

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**The Flow of Time**

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Her feet hurt; her knees and back, sore from their new alignment, make it unbearable to walk. She cannot stop, though. She must get the jewel to someone who can purify it, someone who can set her mistress' spirit free. Her body cries for rest, but she will not appease it until her mission is accomplished. She does not last long; after days of walking her wounds and hunger force her muscles into silent submission. She collapses. 

Black overtakes her and she is lost to the world.

* * *

When she comes to her wounds are mostly healed. She picks herself up and keeps walking from village to village, knocking on every door, trying to find someone to purify the jewel. Some sneer at her unbecoming clothes and ignore her obvious distress, some kindly offer her a bowl of grub or whatever they can muster in such turbulating times, some even offer her a place to stay and earn her keep; she keeps walking. 

Days turn into weeks, then months, then years, and all too soon the tale of Midoriko becomes a legend. Nigh on a century and a half from her mistress' death she is no closer to finding the answer. The many priests and priestesses she has asked have all refused to help or succumbed to the darkness of the jewel. She has been attacked countless times by those who want it in their possession; but, with the passing of time and the turning of history to myth, passions wane and she finds she can travel peacefully once more.

It is no relief. She continues her search dutifully.

She camps alone, in forests, places where her _youkai_ feels at peace. Catching her face in a stream she cannot help but ponder the large amount of time since she has taken her other form. The more she stares at the unfamiliar human face the more she realizes she is not yet ready to return to that – the form that failed her mistress. Only after she has atoned for her failure she will be free to change once more.

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The night at hand she is exhausted; her stomach clenches painfully to remind her she hasn't had a good meal in days. A slight noise in the bushes makes her go on guard, and rightly so; moments later she is ambushed by several men. A growl forms itself in the back of her throat. She fights, but she is tired, and to transform she would need even more energy. She curses herself silently for her idiocy. 

She strikes, kicks, scratches, but she is one and they are many. She feels the kiss of a sword in on her leg, and a knife near her ribs, mindless laughter and eyes glinting malevolently at her nearly make her wretch. She knows what they want. The knowledge gives her strength and in a whirl of maddened punches and erratic kicks she manages to knock out two of the men. Five more remain. She is running out of strength, but she refuses to give up. She does not see the hit coming and she is thrown off balance. The rock that breaks her fall also breaks her link to reality.

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**Author's Notes: To knittingknots, Santorsola and mysterychild who seem to be the only ones actually following this story. Thank you guys very much for your time and your feedback! **


	3. Acquaintance

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha nor any of the characters affiliated with it. Hirosuke is my own creation, however.**

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**Acquaintance**

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When at last she awakes she sees a ceiling above her head. Her head is throbbing, but she can vaguely tell there is no near-by threat. Closer concentration tells her her wounds have been bound. 

"You're awake. Good."

Bleary eyes turn to the speaker.

"How do you feel?"

She tries to answer, but realizes she's not quite sure how to make the right sounds.

"Of course, you must feel terrible. What a silly question. Never mind, just rest."

A small bowl of water is placed next to her and the man dips a cloth in it. With utmost care her presses it against her lips allowing relief to the burning thirst she was only becoming aware of, and she is thankful. He is gentle, and the smile never leaves his eyes.The closeness of him is unnerving. She can smell the fir-laden masculine scent, not altogether unpleasant; his heart is pulsing calmly and she can detect no _youki_ but she knows better than to let her guard down.

"I'm Fujihara Hirosuke. I...You were attacked by bandits. Well, outnumbered really. You did manage to put out two."

Her eyes walk on his face. Silently she implores the gods that the bandits did not get the jewel, then another thought makes her heart stop. What if they...took something _else_ instead of the jewel? Ice spreads through her.

"What's wrong?"

She has never been one to panic, but now...

"P-please..." Her voice is slightly off and raspy. Tears jump to her eyes – she can't help but think this whole 'damsel in distress' thing is not very like her.

"Y-you, saved me...?"

Understanding dawns in his eyes.

"The bandits did not touch you. Your jewel is also safe. I...er...happened upon it when I dressed your wounds."

Relief floods through her.

"It's fine. You're fine." He pats her hair like a mother would. "You're fine. I'll watch over you, so you just worry about getting better."

He stands up and leaves the room.

"I'll be right back" He reassures her on his way out.

He returns with the Jewel; with great reverence he kneels beside her and tucks it into her hand.

"I figured it must be important to you...maybe it'll make you feel a little better, eh?"

All she can manage in reply is a wane smile.

"Rest now. I shall make you a broth to give you some strength, all right?"

She nods.

"I assure you it won't take long. Rest and get better, alright?"

She is surprised to find her smile still lingering after his departure. Her tired body craves rest, and somehow his scent is soothing. More content than she has been in a long time, she closes her eyes and lets sleep claim her.

* * *

When he returns she is asleep. He takes his time looking at her. Such a young face, and yet her voice, her eyes, speak of long years passed. She is a mystery to him, and one he'd like to solve at that. He sees her frown, her fight with her dream, and he boldly grasps the hand lying loose at her side. He doesn't let go for the rest of the night.

* * *

_The blood is everywhere. She cannot escape it, cannot save that person so special to her. She tries harder, struggles against restraints, against her own limits. Kind, brown eyes smile at her one last time. She screams and screams and all she can hear is growls and the thundering laugh of Death. Brown eyes bleed red, the face fades to bone. Death smirks victoriously._

* * *

The first thing she sees upon waking is brown eyes, warm like an autumn day. 

"You were having a nightmare." Hirosuke informs her matter-of-factly handing her a cup of water. Her hand feels awfully warm although the rest of her is chilled, but she is too shocked to ponder it further. The water plops quite painfully into her empty stomach prompting it to growl. In an instant a bowl of warm broth is presented to her.

"Thank you." Her voice is quiet. He regards her silently and smiles.

"Not at all." He disappears for a moment and returns with another bowl.

They eat in silence.

She is still hungry upon finishing her portion, but she is accustomed to it and decides against bothering the man. Her stomach has other plans, though.

His chuckle glides over her ears.

"Still hungry, huh?" He offers his share while she looks on horrified.

"I couldn't...I'm...I'll be fine, thank you for your concern." He smiles wider and puts in her hands.

"It's okay." He assures her. "You can help me with the vegetables when you get better." And he is gone.

In the loneliness of her room she wonders why she is out of breath, why the feel of his hands lingers upon her skin, and why the pain has stopped. It is too much to come to terms with and she contents herself with just finishing the broth. She sets the bowl down, full for the first time in many a-year, and utters a prayer of thanks to her unknown saviour.

Sleep claims her once again then; this time she dreams of autumn, sunlight and kind eyes.

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**A/N: So, here it is. Thank you all very kindly for your reviews, and I apologise for the wait. I have been rather tossed around by some very interesting phenomena in my little dictionary so I'm just trying to sort things out at the moment. **

**I am grateful to each and every one of you who takes the time to leave me a comment. I dearly love hearing from you! Really! **

**Here is hoping you will continue to enjoy this story! **


	4. Compromising

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha nor its characters; I make no profit from the publishing of this story. The ideas, the poem and Hirosuke do belong to me, however.**

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**Compromising**

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He likes watching her sleep. Deft fingers smooth her hair. She looks fragile, but he can tell she is strong. He feels forward in his actions to her, but he cannot help it – fascination is slowly eating him alive. He wants to take the sadness in her eyes and throw it to the winds; he wants to see her smile – a true smile, not the watered down masks she has been bestowing on him; he wants to know her name, he wants her to utter his; he wants so much that he doesn't know what to do with it, but he doesn't even know what the consuming feeling _is_. 

His hand reaches out and cradles hers protectively as sleep claims him.

* * *

The warmth creeping along her face slowly wakes her up. Reluctantly she opens an eye, then another, and attempts to sit up. The man is sleeping not half a meter from her futon; their hands are inter-twined. She blushes, but doesn't understand her reaction. His breaths are even and she can't help just looking at him. He is not bad-looking; jet-black strands of hair fall thickly around a pleasant-shaped face. Pale blue shadows dance beneath closed eyes. She doesn't know why that should cause her to feel such concern. Carefully she extracts her hand from his refusing to acknowledge the sense of loss upon doing so. He startles awake, and she is apologetic. He smiles and offers breakfast; she declines and he refuses to acknowledge it. Frustrated, they glare at each other, then burst laughing at their childishness. 

"How about this: we eat some of the broth from last night, then we go fishing and you can make it up to me. Deal?"

She feels this is more acceptable than allowing him to do all the work and nods. She never has been the type to let herself be taken care of.

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When they set off she relishes the sunshine on her face. It has been far too long. Nearly a week bed-ridden has made her restless. She follows him to the lake, wishing silently he would move faster. 

Fishing, she finds, is not as easy as previously thought. She manages to catch four fish (to his eight). She is frustrated at her lack of skill, and his obvious talent. Mainly the latter. Huffing she reaches down and grabs another. It twists and wheedles itself out of her grasp. A light laugh behind her makes her turn.

"You need to be faster. You don't want to talk to the fish. Grab and throw. You're thinking this through too much."

She pouts and grudgingly tries his advice. She is even more put off when she finds he is right. Of all the things this human had to be!!!! She is a demoness and this is unacceptable! A human fishing better than a_ cat-demon_! Unforgivable. But...she isn't a cat demon, she is a human, and as she hasn't ever tried to fish in this form it makes sense she wouldn't be extremely successful at it. Come to think of it, her human form was rather restrictive: she couldn't fly, couldn't run properly, couldn't breathe fire (not in her usual amounts, anyway). Why _had_ she decided to...? The memories hit her like a waterfall and she tries her best not to shake. Yes, she had a mission! She had to get back on that mission! She had to...had to...

Suddenly she is falling, and just as quickly a pair of rather strong arms catch her.

"Water is cold. If you stay in too long it numbs your legs." He hook a hand under her knees lifting her out of the water; then sets her carefully on the shore before stringing the fish over his shoulder and lifting her up again.

"I'm fine!" She snaps. Her legs wobble when she tries to stand up, much to her horror. When _had_ she become this weak?

"It's okay. It's okay. I'll get you home, you're just tired." This time she doesn't object, simmering in her own shame instead . The walk home is long. His attempts to make conversation are met with walls of silence.

* * *

At long last the small cottage comes into view. With great care he places her on the futon before turning away to head for the kitchen. 

"May I help?" Her voice is small.

"Of course." His smile is all-in-all brilliant and she doesn't know why it, of all things, would make her feel better. She is chopping vegetables, recalling the times she has seen her mistress do it for experience then:

"I'm sorry."

Her head whips towards the man.

"I'm sorry about today. I didn't mean to...I wasn't making fun of you, honest. You just...Nevermind. I'm sorry."

She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

"And I'm sorry if I've made you feel inadequate."

"No!" The exclamation startles even her. "I mean...not at all. I'm sorry for being such bad company earlier." She feels her face getting hotter, but doesn't have time to ponder it. "You've been very kind in taking care of me and I have been acting very ungratefully."

His smile blossoms again – it makes him look even more boyish.

"Then...may I know the name of the person I saved?" There is a challenge behind that voice.

"Ki..." She stops abruptly. She cannot say her true name for it marks her as a demoness. "Kiyoko."

He looks at her oddly but then nods and bows.

"It is good to finally make your acquaintance, Kiyoko-san."

Oh my! She has never had an honorific used in relation to her before. The uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach returns ten-fold. Perhaps it is the cold water's fault, she rationalizes.

Then they are back to cooking in silence. They do not speak again that night.

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**Author's Note: Here we are, the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. A grand 'thank you' to Santorsola, knittingknots and mysterychild for their reviews for the last chapter. I appreciate it. I really love hearing from all of you, so keep writing. :p**

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	5. The Skill of Bargaining

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

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** The Skill of Bargaining**

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"You must allow me to thank you." 

""Your gratitude is appreciated, but I simply cannot accept your servitude."

"But…"

"It would be a gross injustice."

"For each day a month."

"No."

"A week."

"I really must refuse."

"I want to thank you. I have no other means save my body."

They both start at her statement. She cannot understand why she is reddening; nor, more importantly, why he is reddening as well. Was it her phrasing?

"I do not…er…I am not asking you for any kind of payment. What has been done is done and I am only content I could keep you from harm."

She grits her teeth trying hard not to spit fire. Literally.

"Three months!"

"No."

"_Three_ months." Her tone leaves no space for arguments.

"Fine." He allows grudgingly. "Three months of help. You will be more than welcome to stay once they finish, though."

She nods.

She would not stay one moment longer than she had to with the particularly infuriating man in front of her!

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**Author's Note: Thank you very much to Murasahki-chan, mysterychild, wildmage89, Midoriko Jewel and knittingknots! I adore feedback and you are satiating my hunger of it. O.o I will put up two chapters tonight as thanks! Merry Christmas everyone:)**


	6. Waver

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Inuyasha and co. Hirosuke and the poetry used in this piece are still mine.**

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**Startle**

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He is getting accustomed to her presence, he finds one day as he ponders the clouds. Nigh a moon since her arrival she is still a mystery to him. They hardly talk but he trusts her, and he wants to believe the feeling is mutual, but he cannot be sure. She is not what she appears, at least not in certain respects but he knows not what to make of her silences and her far off-glances. Sometimes he feels as though she looks into the past, centuries before him and sees things that no human can see. Sometimes he wishes he could see into her dreams, if only to be able to do more for her than smooth away her hair when the nightmares come. 

He is more than fascinated by her. He wants to protect her. He wants to stay by her side and dispel the angry demons that haunt her, and he still wants _that_ smile. He wants her to say his name! He wants to hold her, and for her to allow it. With a gulp he realizes: he is in love. The heart he believed dead thunders renewed with feeling. He sighs. How does he always manage to get himself into such situations?

* * *

She tends the vegetable patch. As her pay to him she has offered to clean and cook for him while he goes hunting. She had had no money to give, and she was sure even if the case had not been so, he wouldn't have accepted them anyway.

She isn't_ un_happy; the nightmares plague her less and less and, secretly, she enjoys having a companion again. It is strange, the thought it has been nearly three centuries since she has had one. Determined not to allow her memories overcome her she continues tending the vegetables. Already the potatoes are nearly ready for picking and the grapes would come into ripeness soon.

She ponders her fate, her past, but especially her present. It is her present that most befuddles her. She has a duty to her mistress, and she knows it well, and yet part of her wishes she could stay in the moment forever. She does not understand why. She knows it is unreasonable, illogical and perfectly impossible.

Her heart continues to waver.

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** Author's Note: Here we are :) I hope you like this chapter. Thank you very much for taking the time to read and review (those of you who do). Lots of love to make the world a shinier rainbow!**


	7. Sparks

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. Santa simply doesn't have the jurisdiction to grant him to me, either. (I would settle for Sesshomaru, Santa! Santa?) **

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**Sparks**

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The sun melts into the warm earth before her crinkled eyes – another day of vegetable tending done. Her nose twitches suddenly.

_Hmm…fish for dinner._

Contented she goes inside and begins preparing the kitchen.

She cannot help thinking on how she has grown rather fond of the little hut: its sturdy pine walls that smell like the forests of her youth, the ever-so-slightly uneven flooring (which she can feel even under the tatami mats), the small hearth in the middle of the room around which _they_ gathered more and more often as of late, spinning tales long into the cold nights; she is startled at how much it has become like a home.

A home!

A_home!!!!_

Warmth bubbles through her, escaping through a giggle.

A home! She has a home…of sorts, but well enough ought to satisfy, she reasons.

"Well…someone had a good day."

She starts; too caught in her daze, she hasn't heard Hirosuke come in. Again, the cursed blush pinches her cheeks.

"Too much time in the sun?" He asks with genuine concern noting her face colour. She shakes her head frustrated with herself.

"I…was looking forward to the fish." She blurts out in an attempt to cover for her reaction. Hardly a better excuse.

"How did you know we were having fish?"

She freezes.

"Good…nose?"

"Very good nose!" He agrees heartily and she is relieved.

"You should smile more." He catches her gaze and holds it for longer than she is used to. "It suits you."

Again that _something_ quivers inside her, making her heart spume with emotions she cannot comprehend, emotions she is not acquainted with. She hates feeling so inadequate.

"I apologise if my comment upset you." Hirosuke's soft voice breaks through her thoughts.

"Oh…not at all…"She waves her hand a little too energetically.

"I meant…I meant no insult, Kiyoko. I merely…intended…I mean…"He sighed. "What I am attempting to say, rather ineptly as it may be, is that you seemed happy and I was content for you and, also, I wish you to continue to be happy enough to smile like that."

This time containment was not even attempted as the brightest smile blossomed from her heart and onto her lips.

"Thank you."

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** Author's Note: Here we are. A wee Christmas prezzie to my lovely fans. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter. Merry Christmas to all and to all the very best!**


	8. A Burden Shared

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha nor any of the characters affiliated with it. I own Hirosuke, the poem that gave the title to this piece and the idea. The gory scene is er...a by-product of too much looking at geki-ga (especially Kamuiden - thanks for that Shirato-sama. :p) **

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******A Burden Shared**

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Before she has realized moons have melted into seasons and the cold forces them to spend more time together. Kirara cannot understand why this makes her somehow giddy, but puts it down to the effect of the season on her human body. Something she does understand, however, is that her companion is being ailed, though she has yet to learn what. With the waning of the days shadows have begun to overtake him, slipping around him, chilling him to the core, slithering into his dreams and dripping their poison until she can hear him scream. She has not asked him why that is, trusting that he would tell her if he ever decided to; instead she contents herself with smoothing his hair away from his damp face and holding his hand while he sleeps on tortured by unseen demons. At such times her heart lurches painfully in her chest wishing it knew how to soothe him and cursing its ignorance. 

When he finally awakes, dazed and still tired, she reassures him with soft words, never demanding, never inquiring. His eyes focus on her with such intensity – as though his sanity depends on her being there. Unbeknownst to her, it is so. Her gestures, her words, her shy-but-still-not-quite-honest smiles have slowly been altering him as much as he has been changing her.

"Kiyoko.", he whispers one night when his heart feels it will burst under the heavy shadows. She looks up from her knitting and regards him curiously.

"Kiyoko..." Her name on his lips sounds like an incantation of sorts, a prayer. "Will you not come nearer?" She obliges.

"Kiyoko..." Fear alters his scent quite markedly and she worries of what he is about to speak. "Have you ever loved someone?"

She cocks her head. She ponders for a moment: she's had no parents to speak of, both having died before she was old enough to have strong recollections of them, and the nearest thing to such an emotion had been...

"Yes." She speaks softly. "Yes...once"

He nods understandingly.

"Kiyoko...I...I, too, loved someone...once." He does not understand why he is telling her – why he feels the _need_ to tell her, and even more so: why he craves her acceptance…

"She...She...was to become my wife." His eyes glaze over with memories. "We had been childhood sweethearts and although she wasn't of high-breeding I had decided to make her my wife, against the wishes of my parents – or rather, their advisors." He smiles bitterly. "They...they had her killed." He spits out. "…made it look like a random brigand attack, but I knew. I knew! And..."

Her breath stops in her throat. Such cruelty. She had always thought humans were more emotionally inclined, though hadn't considered that the same trait could lead to insensate behaviour.

"I..." She is barely aware he is still talking. "I...killed the man who'd ordered her death. I can still feel my sword going through him, the blood on my hands..." He stops, trying to calm his ragged breathing. "But she was still dead...They exiled me...for ten years. All I could do...All I could see was my beloved as I had known her. I would wake each day pining for her voice, and go to sleep each night envisioning her in my arms...and then...I would always dream of finding her...dead...her body cut up...her eyes staring unseeingly and her mouth...her mouth calling for me." He puts his hand over his mouth stifling something that sounds suspiciously like a sob. "Little by little I began forgetting, but even that hurt. I didn't want to forget her – didn't want to pretend she never existed...but I did." He raises tortured eyes to her. "I did!"

Kirara is torn between sympathy for him and pain at her own memories; however, she softly places her hand over his in what, she hopes, would be a comforting gesture. Hirosuke clutches at it.

"I...was meant to protect her! She died calling out to _me_! She died because I couldn't protect her...she...she..."He stops abruptly when something wet lands on his hand. Kirara hadn't been aware she was crying until she tried to speak.

"She loved you." The words feel foreign on her tongue. "She loved you...and she trusted you...and...she understands it was not your fault." With each word she begins to be more convinced of her own forgiveness. Yes, there were things above and beyond the ability of being prevented. "She...would forgive you...she wouldn't want you to hurt like you do." She is certain Midoriko had _wanted_ her to live. "Because she loved you...and she wanted you to be happy." He looks a bit confused at what she is saying, but then nods ever so slightly.

"Forgive me, Kiyoko. It must be a pathetic scene to witness a man cry." His voice is bitter and she shakes her head.

"You grieve. If there is something I have learned...it is that to be honest with one's feelings is the sure-way to being strong. Pretences fall apart like a house of straws."

"Thank you, Kiyoko, very much so. Forgive me for burdening you, forgive me for making you cry." His hand comes up to brush away her tears.

"I..." She wants so very much to tell him about everything but she cannot. He had loved this mystery-woman and she has no idea why the very thought sends a pang through her. "What was her name?"

She is surprised at her own question.

He smiles sadly: "Shizuka."

She smiles in return, unsure of what else to say.

"Thank you." Her hands are safely cradled by his again. "Thank you for listening, Kiyoko."

The coldness in her heart dispels a little.

"You are welcome."

"Kiyoko...I don't think I want to see you go." The breath she is taking sticks in her throat. "I...would you consider staying a little longer?" She nods mutely then squeaks when she is pulled into his arms. "After Shizuka I had lost all hope. I could see myself at most just surviving...then gradually not even that; but...you...you gave me hope again. You made me feel like I could still carry on, even if for no other reason than the fact that I'm still alive. Thank you." The pounding in her head subsides enough for her to mumble that it had been him who had saved her. Silence then spreads softly around them enveloping them with its comfort.

"I...am sorry for your loss." Kirara's murmur seems to echo in the small room. He tightens his arms around her.

"I apologise again for my outburst. An innocent girl, such as yourself has probably never met with such atrocities...it must be rather disturbing." She smiles bitterly in her mind thinking about her 'innocence' from such 'atrocities'.

"No."

"No?"

She breathes in deeply.

"I loved too once...that person was killed before my eyes." She hears his gasp, his heart speeding up: "I, too, blamed myself and wanted nothing more than to end the pain, but...I had a mission – one I still haven't completed."

"Is it to do with that jewel you carry?"

She bites her lip. Yes, she trusts this man.

"Yes."

"Is there any way I can help?" His concern is truly touching.

"No...it is something I must do on my own."

He does not respond for a while, then:

"Kiyoko...if you desire to leave I won't detain you."

Her heart skips a beat.

"I want to stay." _I want you to never let me go!_

Lying wrapped in his arms, his head resting softly on her shoulder, she allows herself to surrender to the comforting warmth. Somewhere inside her heart, a fragment she had believed to be dead begins to blossom again.

* * *

******Author's Note: I do hope you enjoyed this chapter. :D I admit I am curious as to the low hit count of this story...is it unpalatable, or just merely unpopular because it's not canon (per se)? I would dearly appreciate some thoughts on the matter. Is it a hard read? I know it is more mature in terms of phrasing and style than what I usually write, but do let me know if it is actually too hard. I am very interested in hearing your opinions on the matter. Kind thanks!**


	9. Unveil

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha nor any characters affiliated with it. I retain ownership over Hirosuke Fujihara and the poem (of the same title as this story) in the first chapter.**

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**Unveil**

* * *

Something is wrong! She knows the instant she walks in. She sneezes; Fujihara-san's usually gentle scent is shrill and there is too much salt in it. She finds him lying on his futon. 

"Fujihara-san!" She calls his name out, noting his surprise. It is the first time she has uttered it in their time together. He mumbles something but she cannot pick it up.

She rushes to get him some cold cloths, stopping partly to set the left-over broth to warm. He is shaking heavily by the time she reaches to wipe his brow. His lips move without making any sound and a pang goes through her at the thought of him calling to his first lover. Her hands brush his hair gently even as she begins to worry about the persistence of the fever. Again and again her heart slams against her ribs sensing his pain. Reaching to take his hand she prays for his strength, for his life.

Hours later he is still trembling but his fever is going down. With a jolt she realizes it is not stopping its descent. Furious searching for more blankets leaves her empty handed. His skin is clammy to the touch and she feels his temperature decreasing.

Panic begins to take her over once more – the nearest village is a full day's walk away or a few hours in her demon form, but she cannot leave him. Her heart trembles painfully: if she does not find a way to warm him up, he will...will…She cannot even _think_ it. Her breath is suspended. When has the life of a mere mortal become precious to her? When has the heart of _this_ mortal become precious to her? She remembers Midoriko, she remembers the feelings surrounding her, the warmth, the trust, the care, the love. Love? Yes, she can finally admit it to herself she has somehow fallen in love with this man before her, his easy acceptance of everything, his kindness, his tenderness.

Suddenly she knows what she has to do. She closes her eyes.

_Please, work!_

* * *

He feels warm. Something voluminous is piled on top of him. A slight turn reveals he is still encased in a sleeping Kiyoko's arms. He remembers the fever, the cold, then nothing. He makes to stand up and freezes. What trickery is this? The warm thing covering him is not a blanket, it looks like fur – more precisely, like a thick tail – and it seems to be attached to...to... 

But, then...she is a demon? Demons kill people! She has probably biding for her time...His heart leaps painfully. All this time she has been deceiving him! Sleepy eyes turn on him.

"Good mor-..."

"Get away from me!" He untangles himself frantically.

She blinks.

"Get away!!!" He scampers towards the wall refusing to notice the pain washing over her face.

"Were you planning to eat me?"

"Eat...?" She would laugh at the question if it didn't hurt her so.

"Demon! Get out of my house!!!"

"But..."

"Get out!"

She nods silently then gets up and moves towards him, withholding a tear when he flinches.

"Don't come any nearer! I'll ... I'll..."

"Thank you." She smiles sadly then bows. "Thank you for your kindness, for giving me a place to stay, for taking care of me." Then she is off.

* * *

She doesn't know how long she runs but when she finally stops she has reached the river where they have first gone fishing those many moons before. Tears threaten her again, and she drops to her knees. Her reflection screams at her. This isn't Kirara! This is a pathetic mortal woman! She cannot stand it, lowering her head she allows herself to change. The pain from failing her mistress would at least motivate her to move on and find the Jewel. Sobs pierce her body and heavy droplets of sadness fall down her snout and into the water. For the second time in three centuries Kirara cries herself to sleep.

* * *


	10. Remaking Us

**Disclaimer: All I own is Hirosuke, the title poem and the idea. All other characters are from Inuyasha and thus, are the property of Rumiko Takahashi.**

* * *

**Remaking Us**

* * *

_Thank you!_

The words pounded on his head, ripped into his heart deeper than any claws ever could. He couldn't believe his own stupidity. This, _this_, had been what she had been hiding! She had saved his life, and he'd repaid her by insulting, by _hurting_ her. His reputation as a man was forever gone. She had never said she wasn't a demon, come to think of it, and she _had_ been awfully quiet, drunk quite a bit of milk and had a habit of being able to tell whether he was bringing home fish. She had never tried to kill him, though. He had already began envisioning a life built around her, with her, and now he had thrown it to the winds.

He had been surprised, but that, surely, was no excuse for treating her like a murderer. The look on her face when he first screamed at her throbbed in his mind. He was the monster! He had hurt an innocent. Yes, his heart argued, she may have been a demon but she first and foremostly was someone with feelings – feelings he had undoubtedly wounded.

He had to go apologise, he decided; then, if she forgave him, he would throw caution to the dogs and ask her to stay, forever.

With the choice made he burst into full sprint towards the direction in which she had left. He didn't know which way he should turn but rationalized that, because she had been upset, she wouldn't have bothered with changing direction. When he reached the river he found a cat with two tails sleeping. He knew her then, and couldn't help taking a closer look.

She really was quite magnificent: sleek, silky coat, thick tail and that adorable way of tucking her snout under her paws as she slept – he recalled her to have done that a few times in her human form. Moving closer he couldn't stop a hand brushing her hair gently, as he had done the first nights. From this close he could see tear-tracks gluing the fur on her face at random intervals – his heart slammed against his rib-cage. _He_ had been the one to put those tears there. Carefully, and ever so gently, his thumb brushed away a small tear hanging from her closed eye. He hadn't expected her to awake then. Her eyes were quite fearsome like this and he almost lost his resolve. If she threw him into the river, he felt, it would have only been fair; in this form, however, it looked like she was fairly capable of worse things.

He dropped to his knees, before he had a chance to change his mind:

"Forgive me." He raised his eyes to find her staring curiously.

"I apologise for all the things I've said before! I was being stupid! I owe you my life, and I shouldn't have acted the way I did. It was a surprise, you see, but...but...if you wanted me dead you could have killed me anytime, couldn't you now?" He laughed nervously. "So...I know it won't make things better, but I am truly sorry...and I have to say I like your human form, and your...er...this...form" He gestured wildly. "And won't you reconsider coming back? I promise I'll get fish every day, for you, and...and...lots of milk...and..." He raised his eyes. "And...if you let me, I promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you for being stupid."

She blinked. Did he just...? He stared, she stared.

"Er...so are you...gonna say something? I really _am_ sorry, you know?"

She laughed inwardly – one would think he would have known she couldn't 'talk' in this form.

He lowered his eyes and she curled her tail around him, making sure he didn't leave before she finished transforming. He was staring at her but with a distinct blush on his face and she realized that she had forgotten that transformation didn't involve the materialisation of clothes. Hastily, she wrapped herself in her tail, thankful she hadn't gone straight to her human form.

"I'm sorry." He spoke again and she knew he wasn't lying. His heart was racing madly in its fear it wouldn't be forgiven, his scent had spiked for the same reason. There was no doubt as to her answer.

"You should be!" True, he was sorry, but she was angry! "But, knowing you, you have already beaten yourself up quite enough, haven't you?" She smiled gently at him. "I won't do anything more, but I will take you up on the fish and the milk." She winked.

"You will?!" And he was a little boy again, grinning and beaming with happiness. "Oh, thank you! I meant it, you know! I want you to stay with me...I want you to be my wife...and even if you can't say yes now, I'll wait, and I'll still want to marry you in two or ten or twenty or thirty years! I don't care what you are! I don't care about things that happened! I...I'm in love with you." He confessed rather shyly, by comparison with how he had begun.

She felt her heart melt then explode into myriad shards of glinting rainbows.

"Thank you! Yes! I will!"

It didn't matter he was human – she would prolong his life span, and when he'd die early she would have something to remember of what love was. No, this she couldn't go back on. The jewel, the journey, they could wait – she had a feeling Midoriko would have supported her decision, had she been alive (if not pushed her into it – few people knew Midoriko had been a cureless romantic).

She found herself twirled through the air.

"Thank you, thank you...Kiyoko!"

Oops...she had forgotten about that. When at last he put her down she grasped his hands gently.

"Fujihara-san, I have been less than completely sincere with you, for reasons which I cannot divulge at the present moment."

"I don't care! I love you, demon-girl!"

She tried the nick-name in her head and found she rather liked it.

"Kyoko...I...really..."

Her eye twitched.

"One of the things I didn't divulge...was my true name. I apologise. My name is Kirara."

He looked at her and she didn't miss that shadow of hurt that crossed his eyes, but then he grinned and grasped her hands tighter.

"I knew it!!! I knew it!!! No _way_ you were any kind of child!!!"

She had to laugh at the convinced analysis of her name.

"Kirara – I like it! It suits you even better!"

She didn't know what to say, or how to stop her heart from swelling and floating away completely so she merely hid her face in his shoulder.

"Come Kirara! Let us go home. I'll carry you." He winked and she smiled.

"Let's go home Fujihara-san."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but then he just shook his head and lifted her up.

"Let's go home!"

* * *

**Translation Note: The "ko" in "Kiyoko" means "child" that's why Hirosuke says he knew she wasn't any kind of child - he felt her name didn't fit.**

**Author's Note: Fluffy? Indeed. Hirosuke wouldn't be written any other way. :3 I do hope it's not overbearingly schmoopy. Thank you for the lovely and positive responses; do PM me if you have any uncertainties or questions about the story so far. :)  
**


	11. By The Embers, We

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha nor any of the characters affiliated with it. Hirosuke, this story and the title poem for it are all mine, however. **

* * *

**By the Embers, We**

* * *

"Kirara..." 

"Hmmm?" Kirara redirected her attention from the still warm embers of the_ irori_.

"I like your name."

She smiled.

"It's just right."

"I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"Well, it's just what I've been called all my life."

He moved closer to her.

"It's still beautiful." He whispered.

"Thank you."

His scent suddenly spiked with sadness, but it was gone as fast as it appeared.

"Are you alright?"

"Hmmm?" Something was hidden in his expressive eyes, something she couldn't quite grasp.

"You seemed sad."

He shook his head.

"I am most fortunate to be here, now, with the demoness-woman I love." He nuzzled her cheek.

"Fujihara-san!"

Again, that note in his scent appeared, making her nose twitch madly.

"You are a very bad liar, you know that."

"I do, which is why I endeavour not to lie." The smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Kirara bit her lip.

Something was obviously bothering him.

"Is it to do with Shizuka-san?" She did not mean to sound jealous.

"No." He was genuinely surprised. "Kirara, love, I do hope you are not waging some competition with her over my affections!"

"Of course not!" She shook her head emphatically. "But...you seem sad, and I can't think of anything else..." He hadn't meant to worry her over something quite so small.

"Kirara, you must know that no matter how many years pass a part of me will still belong to Shizuka; but, my dear, I am in love with you here and now and as long as the gods will grant us, I promise. Do not wound yourself meaninglessly. There is no need for you to fight for my emotions, or my heart. You have them, you do, my little flame."

She blushed at his openness and the nickname. She was not uncertain of herself, to be sure, but as a woman she couldn't help but wonder sometimes. His words soothed frets she hadn't been aware she had had.

"Then why will you not speak of what is ailing you?"

"Because it is pointless and I do not mean to upset you."

Her hand caressed his face tenderly.

"I want to know, please."

He sighed.

"It's just...I worry...that I'm not right for you; that you know I'm not good enough..."

She looked up at him, her thumb continuing its trail across his cheek.

"And...whether I can ever make you as happy as your previous lover." She felt the heat of his blush underneath her finger.

"And...I think perhaps...you care about me, but...not...not in _that_ way; perhaps I'm taking advantage of your present vulnerability and, deep down, you know and that's why...why..."

"Why...?"

"That's why you won't let me close to you...I mean...that's why you won't...speak my name, or, truly rely on me..."

Kirara blinked, trying to take it all in. She was accustomed to relying on physical cues revealed by her heightened senses. She had forgotten that humans, not having such senses, required different cues such as petnames, and the use of names intimately, without suffixes.

His former statement suddenly sunk in and she stifled a giggle.

"Hirosuke..." She could hear the speeding up of his heart, could sense the flood of sweet-tinged joy into his scent. "My dear, dear, silly, Hirosuke. You had only to ask."

With a smile she began to explain to him the difference between human and demon behaviour.

"I do apologise. I'm just not accustomed to...but, do not think yourself unworthy of me in any way. Nor as a villain. You are no such thing."

"But..." He hung his head.

"Hi-ro-su-ke..." She chanted out his name. "I love you. You are the only man for me. Ever."

His eyes opened revealing his confusion.

"The person I loved, very much – the one who tragically passed on young, and to whom I owe a duty – that person was not my lover, she was my mistress."

"M-m-m...?"

He stumbled at the thought.

"Yes. She and I were a team of demon exterminators. She was a priestess, and I was her companion, her partner, if you will. I loved her as dearly as a sister."

"Oh..."

His embarrassment was palpable.

"Indeed, my dear."

His head lowered until his face was hidden in her shoulder.

"It is quite alright." She rubbed circles into his back soothingly. "But, you are also right. I don't tell you things. You see, I'm quite unaccustomed to having someone to share my thoughts with. I'm certain it will come, in time."

He grasped her tightly.

"I apologise."

She shook her head: "I ought to be the one apologising. Forgive me?"

He nodded languidly, face still hidden in her shoulder.

"Kirara...? Is...I mean...Is the form I saw you in what you really look like?"

Was he displeased?

"Not that I am trying to say you were unlovely or anything of the sort...but...well...I was wondering...if demons can only have one 'demon' and one 'human' appearance..." He babbled, hopelessly lost within his own question.

Kirara smiled.

"Not all demons can take human form, only the stronger ones. Even so, it is too energy consuming to constantly change one's features, thus, we don't. I can't imagine of a demon who could change his appearance at will without some sort of magical aid. I think they would have to possess a frightening amount of _youki_."

"So...what I saw...that was your true form, then?"

"One of them..."

"One? You've got others?" Then softer: "Could you show me?"

She shrugged and let go of him, moving away a fraction. The familiar changes began taking places until she was looking up at a flabbergasted Hirosuke.

_I wonder if he dislikes this form..._

He continued to stare, his mouth having fallen into an 'o' shape at her transformation.

She blinked. His fingers tremulously approached her flicking ears and ever-so-carefully scratched behind them. She, for one, was not going to pretend it was not enjoyable for her. There was so much awe caught in his gaze it made her want to laugh madly while flying across forests, racing breezes.

He continued to blink in utter amazement and a little something else. She cocked her head to the side.

It had been a while since she had been in her energy-efficient demon form.

Hirosuke's breathing accelerated. Her ears twitched faster and she moved closer to his hand, giving a small purr. He raised his hand to his mouth, suddenly quite red in the face. Concerned for him she instantly returned to her human form grabbing the discarded blanket with urgency before leaning in to look at him.

"Hirosuke? Are you alright?"

Tears had begun to shine in his eyes and Kirara was growing more frantic by the minute.

"Hirosuke!" She grabbed his hand.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry." He mumbled garbledly before dissolving into a fit of giggles the likes of which Kirara had never thought a man possible.

She continued to watch him as he was shaken by laughter and the odd squeal.

"What's all this about?" She asked once he'd begun to calm down.

His gaze turned to her before a new wave of giggles broke over him. She patted his hand while he rested his head on her shoulder once more.

"You...cat...demon form...so..._cute_!!!!"

He managed to wheeze before more laughter overtook him once more.

* * *

**Translation notes: _Irori_ is the small, square fire-pit in Japanese houses of that period. Kind of like a hearth, but in the middle of the room. **

**A/N: Oh my...I think I may have temporarily turned Hirosuke into a woman O.o I do hope the chapter didn't feel forced - the image of Hirosuke giggling over a cutesy mini-Kirara just wouldn't leave my mind; it practically begged to be written. And, yes, I was attempting an ironic allusion to/foreshadowing of Naraku with Kirara's comment. :) Do let me know what you think! I'm always looking forward to comments from my readers :D Also, please pardon the typos - I really wanted to put this chapter up before another tempest swelled in my dictionary, so it's quite a bit more rushed than my usual. :o**

**Lastly, for those of you following "The You of Yore", a new chapter shall be up as soon as I manage to get the link (literary bond, that is) between the current plateau and the next twist. **

**Thank you very much to all of my reviewers - your comments keep me beaming for days! Luffles! **


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